


To Be With You

by HallucinogenicPandas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Breakups, Divorced parents, F/F, Hipster glasses, M/M, Sarcasm, Smoking, So yeah, UST, i can't tag, i like to make dean and cas do the do, i should probably stop now, lots of other shit too, oh god the ust you have no idea, porn i guess, they're gonna do it, we'll have that, yeah porn is good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HallucinogenicPandas/pseuds/HallucinogenicPandas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's family has just moved to Kansas after a death in his family leaves everything he knows in ruins. He doesn't expect his new school to bring him anything good, but when he goes out to smoke behind the building, he's left with a new perspective and hope for his future. </p><p>Dean Winchester is not popular. He's the kid who sits in the back of the classroom listening to music, never does his homework, and smokes out behind the school. His bad behavior only gets worse when an especially bad break-up leaves him gutted and humiliated. But maybe the new kid who shares a love of smoking and a gym class with Dean can change him for the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cigarette Smoke - Arctic Monkeys

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god I hate myself. I kept telling myself that I couldn't write this fic until I finished the two other WIP's that I have going, but I couldn't get it out of my head and so now I have this fic here that I'm gonna have to update. Why? Oh well, whatever. Enjoy my angst-filled baby. Like I mentioned earlier, I have two other fics going on so updates might be slower than is desired, but what can you do?
> 
> Oh yeah, not write a million fics at once. Silly me.

Dean's fingers shook slightly as he flicked his lighter, orange light dancing around his vision, and set fire to the cancer stick dangling from his mouth. Cigarette butts littered the ground at his feet, the most recent one still glowing and smoking at the tip. He took a long drag and slowly let the smoke out, pretending for a moment that he was a kid again, when he would  breathe out warm Carbon Dioxide into the cold winter night, possibly holding a lollipop with his index and middle fingers, pretending to slowly kill himself. It wasn't pretend anymore. It wasn't even winter. 

The early morning air nipped playfully at Dean's cheeks, not nearly cold enough to sting anymore now that March was almost over. He let the acrid smoke envelop him from the inside and out, trying to find a few moments of clarity before he was forced to enter the prison-like institution that the law and his father required him to attend. He didn't relish the idea of actually going inside the school, especially since the last time that he had gone was the previous Wednesday. He had hoped that the time off added on to the weekend would be enough to clear his head and calm down, maybe even forget what had happened, but, as usual, Dean was mistaken. He hadn't wanted to go today either. He could still remember the conversation he'd had with his father that morning.

 

_The bright morning light hit Dean's face as the curtains were pulled roughly away from his window. "Time to get up, Dean."_

_Dean groaned and rolled over to fumble for his glasses on the nightstand. "Do I have to?" He already knew the answer, of course, but any chance he had to get out of going he would take gladly._

_"Yes, Dean. You've missed enough school as it is."_

_"But I was sick, dad."_

_"Don't give me your crap, Dean, we both know you weren't sick." So John knew. Dean's mind immediately ran through a list of all the possible ways that he could have found out, and came up with nothing. John didn't seem upset by it, so maybe he'd changed his opinion? Unlikely. Either way, that would make the whole_ coming out _thing one less inconvenince that he'd have to worry about._

_Dean fumbled for the right words. "Well I-"_

_John silenced him by putting his hands out in front of him in a gesture of surrender. "You don't have to justify it to me, Dean. I know you won't tell me what's wrong, and I don't expect you to, but you do have to go to school sometime." Dean breathed a mental sigh of relief. So his dad didn't know. That was good._

_"Does that "sometime" have to be today?" Dean questioned, complete with air quotes._

_"Yes. Now get your ass out of bed." John said gruffly and shuffled out of the room. Dean flopped back down onto his bed with an exaggerated groan that was more for his father's benefit than his own. He would love to tell his dad why he didn't want to go to school. He really would. Unfortunately, though, that wasn't an option, since the reason behind his truancy wasn't a_ what _, it was a_ who _. Dean had a feeling that John wouldn't be very happy with the who, so he got up out of bed without complaining any more, and got ready for a gruelling day that he wanted no part of._

 

Dean took another drag, so lost in thought that he almost didn't hear the footsteps that were quietly making their way towards him. Almost. Years of smoking on school property and committing other offences had honed his hearing to an almost supernatural level that he wished he could transfer to his eyes. Glasses looked stupid on him, and contacts were a major pain in the ass. He turned towards the noise, his eyes meeting the blue ones of the approaching boy. The newcomer didn't seem upset by Dean's behavior, so he figured that he wasn't in danger of getting sent to the principals office.

The boy didn't look familiar, with his messy dark hair and bright blue eyes. Dean would remember someone like that. So, either he was a new student, or he wasn't, and he was just looking for a good place to smoke. If that were the case, then he'd hit the jackpot. The secluded alley between the Middle School and the High School was just the perfect balance between private and open. You could easily get into either school from there, and it was open on both ends so that you couldn't be trapped by just one teacher or truant officer. Dean took another drag.

The boy leaned up against the rough brick wall a few feet away from him. He searched through his pockets, presumably for his own pack of cigarettes. Up close, the kid looked more strung out than he had from a distance. He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks and his clothes were  ill-fitting over his slim frame. He pulled his hands out of his pockets with a panicked expression marring his features. Dean understood how he was feeling.

He pulled another cigarette from the pack he'd stowed in his jacket and offered it to the boy. He looked up at Dean in surprise moment before accepting the offered method of self harm. He pushed it in between his lips and expectantly looked over at him. Dean leaned over to press the lit end of his cigarette to the unlit end of the other boy's.

At the first breath of smoke in his lungs, the other boy made a face. He was obviously a smoker. The look he made wasn't one of revulsion, it was one of unfamiliarity.

"What," Dean smirked at him. "you have a problem with Camels or something?"

"Yes, actually, I do. They're awful. I much prefer Marlboros." His voice was rumbly and typically deep for a chain smoker. It ground against Dean's ears in the best way possible.

"Heathen." The boy rolled his eyes at Dean and ignored the comment. They stood in comfortable silence for a while, breathing in the smoke from the other's cigarette. "So, you new here?"

"Yes. Today is my first day."

Dean chuckled humorlessly. "Well good luck. You'll need it." The boy just looked away. "Name's Dean, by the way."

"Castiel." The name rolled off of the other boy's tongue, cold and clinical, but sweet and beautiful at the same time.

"Cool name."

"Really? You would probably be the first to say so." He sounded incredulous.

"Really." Dean replied honestly.

He dropped his cigarette onto the cement and ground it to hot power under the tip of his boot. The muffled sound of electronic buzzing coming from inside pierced the silence of the spring morning. Castiel jumped at the noise, dropping his cigarette. About two seconds later, the bell in the Middle School went off. The bells were both set to go off at 7:55, but somehow they never seemed to actually be in sync. Dean pushed himself away from the wall with his shoulder blades, hoisting his backpack up from where it had been sitting on the ground and slung it over his shoulder. He looked over at Castiel. 

"You coming?" 

He jerked his gaze towards Dean, seemingly surprised that the other boy was still bothering to talk to him. "I, uh... I suppose so. I would stay out here a little longer, but..."

"You misplaced your poison." It wasn't a question. "You can have another one if you want." Dean offered, already retrieving the pack from the pocket of his worn leather jacket.

Castiel scrunched up his nose in a way that Dean didn't find cute  _at all_. "I'll pass. _Your_ poison is absolutely revolting." _  
_

"Whatever man." Dean turned to walk into the building. Castiel followed. "Who do you have for homeroom?"

The boy pulled a wrinkled paper from his jeans. "Um... V. Henrickson. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering. Just a heads up though. You don't wanna be late for his class. Even homeroom. He's totally anal about that kind of thing. Ex-FBI or some shit."

"I see." Castiel mused. They entered the school, the overcrowded hallways reeking of hormones and persperation. Dean started making his way to Mr. Spruce's homeroom on the other side of the building before he realized that Castiel had stopped moving. He looked so lost, wide-eyed and scared-looking in a way that he hadn't out in the alleyway. 

Dean doubled back around and put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Hey man. You okay?"

The other boy brought his impossibly blue eyes up to meet Dean's and visibly relaxed a little bit. "Yes, I think so. It's just that..."

"You don't know where your classroom is, do you?" He shook his head. "You're in luck then, because Henrickson's room is right next to that bathroom over there."

"Thank you, Dean. Will I see you later?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. It's not a huge school, but it's big enough. I'm sure we'll see each other around some time."  

"That's not-" The bell interrupted the boy's comment, and Dean checked his phone for the time. 8:00. _Shit, already?_ While talking to Castiel, he'd completely lost track of time.

"You'd better get going, man. I told you, Henrickson's totally anal." Dean  had already turned away and had begun making his way to his own classroom. "See you, Cas."

He didn't hear Castiel's reply because he was already halfway down the hallway. Where the hell had the nickname come from? You don't just start addressing some guy that you've barely met by a nickname you decided to give him. He didn't know what it was about Castiel. He just... did somethig to Dean. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Shit, he shouldn't be feeling like this. Especially after what had happened with Zeke. It was way too fucking soon. Thinking about the tall football player also did things to Dean, they were just significantly less pleasant. 

 

_Dean didn't know what was happening. One minute he felt the ghosting touch of his boyfriend's hands on him, and the next he was doubled over in pain. Everything was a blur. There were voices all around him in the overcrowded party. Figures loomed above him, spitting out insults like_  faggot _,_ cocksucker _,_ _and_ queer _. One of those figures was Zeke. A foot made contact with his stomach, and he struggled to hold himself up on his shaking arms._

_A face moved close to his in a threatening way that Dean wasn't used to recieving from the other boy. "How does that feel, fag?"_

_Dean struggled to keep any semblance of dignity he had left. "Better than having sex with you." A bit of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth as another foot slammed into him, this time on top of his back. His arms finally gave out from beneath him, and he fell. Hard._

_"Shut up, cocksucker." Zeke crouched down again to get in Dean's face. To antagonize him. "I never really liked you, you know. You were just an experiment. I can't even stand you. All those things I said, I didn't mean them. I was seeing other girls the whole time." It worked._

_Dean lunged up with renewed strength caused by the rush of adrenaline and anger that suddenly coursed through him at Zeke's words. His hands were at the boy's throat, pushing him against the wall in seconds. "You know," Dean ground out. "I like choking you here and now way better than I did last night." Zeke was opening and closing his mouth like a fish, struggling for breath. Dean searched his pale blue eyes for anything that would tell him that it wasn't true. That he wanted him. Finding nothing, he released his hold on the taller boy, calloused fingers scraping against rough stubble as Zeke slumped to the floor. "So, I guess that means we're over, huh?" Dean turned his back on the prone figure. "Well, good riddance, fuckhead. See you never." Several of the football players made to stop him from leaving, but retreated at the murderous look in Dean's eyes._

_Once out into the cold night air, Dean practically ran to his car. He couldn't get away fast enough. The feel of rubber burning up the asphalt beneath his wheels was calming, but not sufficiently so to stop the stray tears from escaping his traitorous eyes. He didn't love Zeke. Far from it, in fact, but the bitter sting of betrayal and hurt still cut deep._

_He didn't go home that night. He had told John that he was going to be staying at a friend's house already, so it would raise suspicion if he went home now, and his father would ask him questions that he couldn't possibly answer._

_He drove up outside of Charlie's apartment building, taking the steps up to the third floor two at a time. He frantically rang the doorbell._

_A sleepy and disgruntled Charlie opened the door, her red hair in wild tufts all over her head. "Dean, what the fuck? It's Midnight. What are you-" She stopped abruptly when she saw Dean's red-rimmed eyes. "What happened, Dean?" She tentatively wrapped her arms around Dean's weak and shaking shoulders. He only shook his head and held her back as tight as he could. "Come in."_

_"Thanks." Dean barely managed to croak out a respnse. He needed to to relieve some of the tension threatening to snap his bones and tear him down from the inside. "Hey, Charlie, do you mind if I smoke?" Charlie looked like she was about to argue, but then just nodded._

_"Just do it out the window, okay?"_

_"Sure thing."_

_With each breath of smoke in his lungs, Dean relaxed a little. Slowly killing himself always helped to ease his pain. He dropped the cigarette into the alley below._

_"Come on, Dean." Charlie tugged Dean away from the window. "Let's go to bed." Dean wordlessly followed Charlie to her bedroom, lethargically kicking off his boots along the way. They crawled into the small twin-size, Dean wrapping his arms around Charlie, fully prepared to never let go of his best friend. He did let go, though, when Charlie got up in the morning to go to school without Dean. He sat around he apartment all day, not being able to focus on anything other than the fact that he was always forced to let go eventually._

 

Dean was late to homeroom. Again. When he walked through the door, he noticed a girl standing at the front of the room. She didn't look familiar, so she must be abother new student. _Sheesh, how many new students did they have?_ She was pretty, with dark brown curls of hair and big, blue eyes that were nearly, but not quite, as bright as Castiel's. Dean could see Charlie in the back of the room, and she was practically drooling. Typical.

Mr. Spruce looked up from the camera lense he was cleaning as Dean walked in. "Nice of you to join us, Dean. We have a new student." at this he pointed to the girl at the front with a meaty finger. "Would you like to re-introduce yourself to our friend Mr. Winchester here?"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that we were friends." She breathed. That got laughs from the other students, especially Charlie. "Sorry, My name's Dorothy Shurley. Nice to meet you." She held out her hand. Dean took it.

"Dean Winchester." He liked this girl already.

"So I gathered." They stood there, awkwardly holding hands until Dean cleared his throat.

"I'm gonna go sit down now."

"Umm, yeah. Okay."

Dean sat down heavily next to Charlie as Dorothy continued the introduction that he had interrupted. He pulled out his Walkman and shoved on his head phones, Queensryche blessing his ears. He laid his head back on the chair and stared up at the gaudy flourescent lights, letting his vision slowly fade out to the middle-ground between black and bright white, blocking everything else out. All of his problems: absorbed by the ceiling and leaving, albeit for a short while. 


	2. Put That Thing Back Where it Came From, or So Help Me - Mike Wazowsky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, update. Enjoy, or whatever.

Castiel could hear his own voice in the silence of the classroom, but he had long since lost track of what he was saying. He could be talking about dildo-induced deaths in America since 1930 for all he knew. Probably not, since none of the immature gorillas from the football team were giggling or giving him suggestive looks. The introduction was brief. It would have been briefer, but Mr. Henrickson kept asking questions that forced him to continue speaking. 

_Where are you from?_

Delaware. 

_Where in Delaware?_  

Pike Creek. 

_What brings you to Kanasas?_  

I don't know, ask my dad.

The questions were all what you would expect, and Castiel gave short, clipped answers for each one, not wanting to drag this on longer than necessary. The teacher's words rolled off of him in waves, making everything seem muted and fuzzy. At last, he was able to sit down in the seat that Mr. Henrickson pointed out for him. When the bell finally rang, Castiel was one of the first out the door, desperate to escape the stuffy classroom in favor of another. 

He stumbled down the hallway, trying to avoid contact with the crushing mass of students as much as possible. He started to feel anxious, already the effects from Dean's crappy cigarette wearing off.

_Dean. God._ Despite Dean's distinct lack of taste in cigarettes, there was still something about him that Cas couldn't shake loose. It wasn't his spiky brown hair, his chiseled jaw, or even those plush, pink lips of his. It wasn't the first time that he'd seen an attractive man. Dean was just... different. It was something in those emerald eyes of his. Like, despite not knowing Castiel  _at all_ , he cared about him somewhat. Dean was a kind person for helping Castiel kill himself sowly. Then there was what Dean had called him.  _Cas_. Only his family had ever called him that. To everyone else he was just Castiel, with the exception of Balthazar, who called him Cassie. He shuddered at the memories that nickname dragged behind it.

It didn't matter anyway. In Castiel's experience, guys like Dean didn't usually play for the same team as he did. He hadn't exactly acted whether he cared that Cas existed at all. The only one who would ever even remotely want him was Balthazar. 

He dragged his right hand through what Balthazar had affectionately dubbed "his sex hair." He involuntarily reached the left into the pocket of his tan jacket, fingers clawing only at pocket lint. Farther down the hallway, Castiel spotted the face and tangle of brown curls that had accompanied him for almost every minute of his life, excepting the first ten. It hit him then. _Dorothy_ _took them_ _. Dammit._

He ran down the hallway towards his twin, intent on retrieving his property. "Dor! Dorothy!" She turned towards his voice, and away from the girl talking to her. A smile broke across her face at the appearance of her brother.

"Cas! Hello!" 

He skidded to a halt right next to the red head who had, ten seconds previously, been chatting up his sister. "Oh, so we've got _two_ noobs, huh?" She quirked her mouth into a wide smile, gesturing towards Castiel.

"Three, actually. Our older brother is going here now, as well." Dorothy shuffled her feet nervously, trying not to make eye contact with the other girl. 

The red head looked like she was going to say something, but Castiel spoke first. "Give them back, Dor."

She didn't even need to ask to know what Castiel was talking about. "Why should I?"

"Because they're mine."

"I will not allow you to hurt yourself if there's something that I can do to prevent it."

Suddenly, a newly familiar voice cut in. "You're not preventing much. He'll find a way to get his fix with or without your intervention."

Dorothy looked at Dean, wearing a perplexed expression. Castiel was sure that he did too. _Was Dean there a second ago?_  "How do you..."

"Your brother knows his stuff. First day here, and he already found the perfect place to detox." More confused looks from the two girls. "We met in the alley between the schools before homeroom. It's a perfect place to smoke."

The red head shook her head. "Dean..."

"What, Charlie? You know I smoke, it's not like this is new."

The red head _(Charlie?)_ brought her eyes up to meet Dean's. "Yeah, but I just can't believe that you brought them to school." She grinned. "Or that you were too busy giving our new classmate goo-goo eyes to notice that I'd taken them." _Had Dean been checking out Dorothy?_ Castiel hadn't even noticed. She held up the pack of Camels, grinning impossibly wider at Dean.

"Hey! Give them back!" Castiel chuckled. The look of indignation on Dean's face was really cute and funny.

"No way, Losechester." Dean's face grew hard, then.

"Charlie..."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, right, sorry. I forgot that's what-"

"Don't say it."

"Got it." Dean reached to take thie pack from Charlie's hand, and she pulled away. "I'm still not giving them back."

"Come on, Charlie..." 

Castiel and Dorothy looked between the pair. They were so comfortable with each other.

"So," Dorothy started. "Are you two, like..."

"Siblings?" Dean questioned.

"Dating?" Dean gave Charlie a weird look when she asked the question.

"Umm, both, I guess." Dorothy looked suddenly nervous, trying to look anywhere but at Charlie. He filed this information away for later blackmail uses.

Dean started laughing. "Well, I've always said that Charlie was the little sister that I never wanted, but as for the dating thing, well I'm not her type."

"Hard to believe." Castiel mumbled, looking Dean up and down. He could literally find nothing that was unappealing about the other boy.

Dean smiled a little wider and he could practically feel his face heat up with the other boy's.

"Well, thanks for the compliment, Cas, but Charlie, well, let's just say that her compass doesn't point my direction. Or any dude's, really."

Realization dawned on Castiel, and he smiled conspiratorially at his sister. "I see..." Dorothy blushed, and looked down. "Cool."

Dean turned suddenly to Castiel and grinned. "So, Cas. How was Henrickson's? I never asked."

"Awful."

"Yeah, I thought it might be. I wish you could switch into my homeroom or something." Castiel just looked at Dean, dumbfounded. He appeared to have changed his opinion in the twenty minutes since they'd last seen each other, despite the fact that he had been checking out his sister, as Charlie had pointed out. he was going to be sorely disappointed when he discovered that Dorothy's compass didn't point that way, either. Dean's cheeks started to tinge red. "Umm, that is, um, Mr. Spruce is just a lot cooler than Henrickson, and your sister's in there, so, you know, you'd know someone." Dean looked pointedly away from him.

Charlie snickered. Dean turned a murderous green eye on her. "So, Castiel, what do you have first?" she questioned.

"Ummm," he pulled his schedule out of his pocket and studied it for a second. "Gym. You wouldn't happen to-"

"I have that first too, Cas. You can follow me." Dean cut in, all cocky smiles and confidence. "That is, if you want." His eyes dropped to look down at a particularly interesting speck of mud on his boots, all confidence gone.

"I would love to, Dean."

Dean's grin reappeared. "Okay. Awesome. Let's get going." He turned to leave, and Castiel followed. Before he left, though, Castiel waved over his shoulder to Charlie and Dorothy.

"Goodbye. Remember, Jesus is always watching, and he gets rather upset when there's not enough room for him, so I would consider keeping the PDA to a minimum."

The girls both turned shades of red that rivaled Charlie's hair. Neither of them could make eye contact with the other.

"Well you two try not to kill yourselves!" Charlie's attempt at a retort made Castiel chuckle. Dean gave him a strange look as they continued down the hallway.

"What?"

Dean shook his head. "Dude, you find out Charlie's a lesbian and you make fun of her for it? Not cool."

"Dean-"

"I mean, really? I thought you were cool and-"

"Dean!"

"What, Cas?

"Charlie was not the intended recipient of that comment."

Dean's eyes widened. "Oh, you mean... Dorothy's..."

"Gay? Yes, Dean. Sorry to disappoint you."

"What do you mean?"

"You were checking her out, were you not?"

"Where'd you get that idea, Cas?"

"Just... what Charlie said..."

Realization dawned on Dean's face, and Castiel could almost hear the lightbulb turning on above his head. "Oh... well... umm... Charlie, uh, wasn't talking about Gilda..."

At that moment, a swarm of yellow jackets attcked the inside of Catiel's stomach. His face started to heat up, and he became convinced that if he looked at Dean now he would spontaneously combust. "...Oh. Oh. That's... Oh." He didn't know what to say, so he didn't.

The pair didn't speak to each other again until they got to the gym, despite both of them desperately wanting to. 


	3. Booty Call - Kesha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it feels like it's been a long time since the last update. If it does, that's probably because it has been. Sorry about that. Despite your inevitable semi-hatred of me though, you should totally check out my tumblr. It's hallucinogenicpandas.tumblr.com
> 
> (also, for those of you who have been with this since the beginning, I changed from Gadreel to Zeke since I thought "Zeke" fit better. I also changed Gilda to Dorothy because I also thought it would fit better. Just a heads up on that. You might want to reread the first two chapters just to get the flow or whatever. Sorry about this it shouldn't happen again.)

Dean's heart was thudding in his ears, making it virtually impossible to make out the hallway chatter all around him. His elbow brushed against Cas' and he quickly retracted it, his nerves set ablaze by the contact. He swallowed down the sentence that would only make this situation worse, and continued down the hallway in silence with his new classmate. As much as Dean desperately wanted to think about something else, the only thing that seemed to take hold was the mantra of obscenities brought to his mind by the situation he had just put himself in. Stupid Cas and his stupid face making Dean speak way more freely than he'd ever intended to. Ever. Just because his sister was gay, didn't mean that he was, or that he'd be okay with Dean checking him out. It made sense. Guys like Cas very rarely swung his way, and if they did, they would probably be just experimenting or something, and then they'd dump him with the rest of the trash where he belonged. He'd made Cas so uncomfortable that the guy wasn't even talking to him. 

He'd thought that maybe he could find a friend in Cas, and maybe even Gilda, but he was pretty sure that he'd just blown all chances of either right out of the water. He wasn't sure if he should say something or not, wasn't sure whether that would make the situation better or worse. With his luck, it would definitely make it worse.

It wasn't until the pair had almost reached the gym that the seemingly impenetrable silence was broken. By Cas, no less. He didn't speak, but instead started to sing quietly under his breath. It was a slow, somewhat melancholy tune, but to Dean it sounded like the voice of an angel.

_"Say something, I'm giving up on you. I'll be the one, if you want me to."_

Dean looked at Cas, and Cas raised his eyes sheepishly to meet Dean's as his lips broke into a beautiful smile. Dean couldn't help but smile back, chuckling a little, and soon, both boys were laughing, all tension gone from the air.

"Really, Cas? A Great Big Whatever? Can you get any more lame?"

"The band's name is  _A Great Big World_ , Dean. And I think it's a beautiful song."

"Yeah, if you like that whiny crap."

"Well, then what do  _you_ listen to,Dean?"

"Like, the same five albums over and over. But they're all better than  _that_."

Cas just huffed an annoyed little laugh and rolled his eyes in a way that seemed too natural to not be something that the other boy did often.

"No but seriously, Cas." Dean continued. He just couldn't help it. "is that the kind of stuff you listen to? Please tell me that's not all."

"Well," Cas started, very seriously, "I also enjoy Lana Del Ray, does that qualify as "good shit" with you, Dean?" Dean, in fact, did not, and he knew that Cas knew it from the too-innocent expression on his face.

"Dude. Can you get any gayer?"

"I don't really find that insulting, Dean, and besides, Lana Del Ray is only gay if you listen to her music while sucking someone off."

Dean shrugged. "Fair enough. Some guys have weird kinks. Especially football players."

"How would you know?"

Another shrug. "Well, you know, the jocks in the sports department aren't nearly as straight as they'd like everyone to believe."

"I see." Cas' tone was a little clipped, now. Almost as if the information that Dean slept around with football players upset him. Dean wasn't exactly proud of this, but hell if he'd ever let anyone but Charlie know it. It was never more than a blowjob in the locker room or janitorial closet after everyone else had left, or a quick drunken fuck at an after-game party. The first one that it had been more with was Zeke, and even that had been a lie, hadn't it?

 

_Dean lay next to the football player in one of the house's many bedrooms, sweaty and spent, with the noise of the party muted, but still there. Dean knew that the senior next to him would either be leaving soon or he'd kick Dean out, but for now, he was content to lay sweaty and sated next to the older boy. Soon, though, the atmosphere in the room became uncomfortable, so Dean sat up and snatched his lighter and pack of cigarettes from his jacket that had somehow ended up strewn over a lamp in their enthusiasm. As far as jocks go, this guy wasn't bad. He hadn't been terribly rough or impatient like Dean was used to, so that was a plus._

_In the long run, though, it didn't really matter, because on Monday they'd pass each other in the halls like nothing had happened, and they'd never speak to each other again._

_"That was fun." The gruff voice from behind Dean came as a surprise, but he didn't let it show. He made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, and shrugged his shoulders as he took a drag. "I mean it. We should do that again sometime."_

_Dean nearly dropped his cigarette._

_He turned around, mouth hanging open, and green eyes wide this disbelief. "What?"_

_The senior shrugged. "We should do this again sometime. It was better than I expected."_

_"Are you kidding me? You sure you don't want to salvage your heterosexuality? Once can be passed off as a drunken mistake. More than that..." Dean took another drag, still unsure what the other boy was playing at._

_The football player sat up, and instead of answering his question, he pressed his lips to Dean's, soft and undemanding. "I'm sure."_

_"Okay." Dean was dubious, but what the hell, right? "So, what's your name?"_

_The senior chuckled against Dean's lips. "Zeke. You?"_

_"Dean."_

_"So, Dean, would you like to be my boyfriend?"_

 

Against Dean's better judgement, he had said yes, and had only gotten hurt in the end. Despite not loving Zeke, it was still difficult to be rejected by the only person who had wanted him for more than one night as, it had seemed, more than just an experimental fucktoy. Of course, just as he had been so many other times in his life, like when he thought his mom would come back, or when he thought she might at least call, Dean was wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment! I love feedback, it is almost as glorious as Jensen Ackles' ass. Wait... nevermind, it isn't. But I would still totally love feedback!


End file.
